The Fall Of Theed's Palace
by Simonetta Salvatore
Summary: An arranged marriage brings Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker together… but not like you would imagine. Exuberant wealth, unbridled passions and hatred. Love. All will be contained within the walls of Theed's Palace. Gothic Romance Anidala AU.
1. Chapter 1: The Wedding

**The Fall Of Theed's Palace**

An arranged marriage brings Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker together… but not like you would imagine. Exuberant wealth, unbridled passions and hatred. Love. All will be contained within the walls of Theed's Palace. Gothic Romance Anidala AU.

Mature content.

Chapter 1: The Wedding

Night had fallen in Theed's Palace.

The usually quiet, peaceful mansion had uproar everywhere.

Every large hall, usually deserted and darkened was at the moment filled with people, servants and aristocrats alike; lighted by candles and chandeliers.

Tall light posts had covered the previously abandoned garden; the wild trees cut into amazing shapes; the flowers usually cut, left free, so that the fragrance all around was the most delicious one. Most people now stood in the behemoth ballroom, where at every corner, by every extreme, beautiful young ladies in elaborated gowns danced with handsome Imperial officers. The music being classy, the environment up tight, some might say stuck up… simply fancy and imperial.

At the center of Naboo's capital city, the Great Palace enjoyed the biggest party of the century: Princess Naberrie Amidala's wedding.

She is by far the center of attention. Everyone regards her image, angel-like, stunning in all its white gown glory. The Naboo men are sure, as they watch her, that there had never existed a more perfect image of beauty. She has just turned eighteen years old, and she perhaps looks smaller by the arm of her new husband, he is so tall and dark, unmatching Padmé's great light.

When they dance he is the envy of every single male in the ballroom, specially thinking about the night that awaits him with his young bride… His one hand rests on her petite waist while his other one captures her fair palm. He spins her around, her every step being graceful and soft. Her white wedding veil covers her face, so people cannot see her expression, though most guess it to be triumphant. She married the richest man in Naboo, for all his lack of youth and beauty, Sheev Palpatine remains, according to the opportunist crowd, a great catch.

The women are as jealous of Padmé as the men are of her husband. Not just for her incredible beauty, but for the great riches and power she will live with forever.

All in all, the party is fun and animated. The guests enjoy the extravagance of the wedding, the banquet, the bride… only one person is not enjoying himself.

Sitting alone on the most exclusive table, refusing to ask a single lady for a dance, Anakin Skywalker watches the newlyweds with an expression of hatred he cannot conceal. The whole thing disgusts him, to the point he's unable of tearing his eyes from the image.

He hates her.

Words cannot express just how much he detests Padmé Naberrie Amidala of Palpatine. The new lady of the castle. The richest woman in Naboo. His father's new bride. Anakin's step-mother.

He simply could vomit just thinking about it. This child, two years younger than himself, will be the mistress of his house!

Oh, he hates his father for allowing the whole sick situation to unfold. But his resentment cannot lie to much in Palpatine, as he is his father and Anakin loves him. All his rage is directed towards the young Amidala. It is her fault, for her lack of honor and respect for herself, marrying for money to a man whom easily triples her age…

 _Gold-digger._

 _Deceiver._

 _Opportunist._

 _Skank._

 _Whore._

The insults are just at the tip of his tongue. That is the reason Anakin had been avoiding the bride all day and night. He's afraid, he's sure, the second the two look at each other and share a few words, he'll unleash all that he thinks and feels.

Any woman Palpatine had chosen to replace Anakin's mother he would have scorned, but this young thing whom every man currently observes with desire? Anakin's mind turns dark, he thinks of horrible things to do to her, should he have her alone…

It makes him tremble with dark excitement.

"Anakin," a voice interrupts his evil thoughts. "Come, boy, your father is calling you."

"Mr. Tarkin," Anakin's voice is filled with respect, "pardon me but…" he cannot think of an excuse.

"Come, Anakin. Your father and his bride will soon leave so you have to go and say goodbye."

He knows he has no choice.

Sighing, he walks besides Governor Tarkin till they reach the stage, where Palpatine and his bride stand.

"My boy!" Palpatine smiles. "At last you come. I was about to take off but I had to give you a hug first," he puts his wrinkly hands on Anakin's shoulders, and the two embrace like father and son. "Wish me luck, my son. And say goodbye, also, to my love. But Darling, uncover your face, please," Palpatine says to his bride. "Let them all see the great prize I have won."

Instead of waiting for her to do what he asked, Palpatine goes ahead of her and takes away the veil, pushing it back, allowing Anakin to finally well see the woman his father married.

At first, he doesn't know what's happening, because it feels like his heart stopped. Anakin is struck, against himself, by her impressive beauty. It's strange… he already knew her to be gorgeous, that's the only reason Palpatine chose her, after all. But watching her closely is something else… Her dark eyes capture him, prim yet fiery; he could stare at them forever. Her soft features, she is like molded by angels… the pink cheeks, above olive skin. The full lips, inviting as they speak—

"It is a pleasure to meet you, boy," she says, her voice melodic, more relaxing than the most beautiful song. "I have heard so much about you. I hope we can get along just fine."

His beating heart rings in his ears now, as she stretches her gloved in white lace hand to him. He shakes her hand, and not being master of his emotions, without realizing it, he smiles at her.

"Goodbye, boy," she says, withdrawing her hand and again putting on the veil.

Palpatine captures her waist, and arm in arm, the newlyweds start walking, as the crowd cheers and screams for them. They little by little disappear, and just like that, Amidala's charm is broken, and as he no longer sees her face, as she once more becomes a faceless white figure stealing his father away, Anakin again hates her.

Fuming like burning lava, Anakin shakes his head, feeling sick to his stomach, just imagining his father taking his bride away to the west wing, where alone husband and wife will have a honeymoon…

A crowd of girls circle Anakin, who stands at the center of the ballroom, unconscious of his surroundings. They try to grab him and pull him for a kiss or dance, but he thinks only on rejecting, afraid, what he can't deny is… like every other man he had judged on this wedding day, jealousy…

And now he hates himself, too. Because he also wishes he was in his father's place, alone with her…

No, no, no! What is he thinking? Shaking away the sinful and treacherous thought, Anakin remembers the hatred he has for Amidala. He focuses on nothing as he takes drink, after drink…

The morning after he is in bed, not remembering how he got there. There are two girls in his bed, he doesn't know what happened…

Shaking his head in disapproval for himself, he enters the fresher and takes a much too needed shower. Quickly he puts on clothes, he dismisses his female guests, as politely as he can muster… and finally leaves his bedchamber.

His plan is to avoid at all costs any direction that could take him to the west wing, but he is received by a great surprise.

He had expected that now everything would be back to normal. No more parties, no more celebration. Theed's Palace should again be secretive, quiet as death, alone…

But no.

By every hallway there are servants running and screaming.

Soldiers marching.

Imperial officers making inquiries.

Complete mayhem.

And Anakin doesn't understand what the commotion is.

In vain he asks, no one can answer him coherently.

His heart beats with vehement violence, terrified by an awful, ominous gut-feeling that something horrible has befallen his home; and the feeling becomes a confirmation when the screams become whole, and he understands:

"He's dead! Master is dead!"

"Oh for the love of the Force!"

"What's going to happen? How did it happen?!"

Anakin keeps walking, not knowing where he is going nor how. The screams do not subside.

"Master Palpatine is dead!"

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: Halloween is almost here and I am excited! That prompted me to write this story, which will get a bit dark here and there, though it is mostly a love story. Expect death, violence, sex, frights and fights, ghosts… It won't be overly long.**_

 _ **Thanks to anyone who reads it, and please if you do, review, let me know what you think! :D**_


	2. Chapter 2: The Funeral

I just want to say for those who are not familiar with gothic romance stories, the hero usually has villain overtones, although that is such a common trait for Anakin fics, I am sure you won't be so shocked, reader. Right?

Chapter 2: The Funeral

You would not had imagined the day to be such a somber one, as in Theed, as was usual, the day had been bright and warm since morning. As if the beautiful city didn't care about the tragedy of the times. At least, that's what Anakin Skywalker thought and felt.

He had been locked in his bedroom since he heard the news being confirmed, isolated and in complete state of shock; but now, he couldn't wait anymore. The time of the funeral had come.

He could not suffer in silence, privately.

Everyone would get a peek at the deepest of his soul. At the furthest corner of his mind. Everyone would be witness of his grieve.

Anakin entered the vast chapel in Theed's Palace, walking unsteady yet quick steps; as the great crowd opened the path for him, he reached Palpatine's coffin.

There were a few imperial officers paying their last respects to who had been the richest and most powerful man in Naboo. They immediately cleared the way when they saw the young orphan approach.

The way being deserted and undisturbed, Anakin stood in front of the open casket, and now in the face of death, the young Skywalker couldn't help but to coil back, face whitened, eyes wide, lips trembling… It's true. He'd known it already, but watching it in the flesh, with his own eyes seems to be too much for his heart. He's dead. His father, his only family is gone forever!

"Oh Father," Anakin sighed as he felt his throat close. "No! Why?!" He broke down in sobs.

"Anakin," a few voices tried to console him.

"No! No! Please bring him back!" Anakin cried like a madmen.

"Young man, you need to find resignation so you can find peace," a man tried to calm Anakin down. "He is in a better place now. One with the Force—"

"Shut up!" Anakin screamed. "No, he cannot be gone—oh, why did this have to happen? He was fine. Only a few hours ago I talked to him, and I saw him smile." Tears fell down his cheeks—"he was so happy because…" Anakin stopped, he cleaned his own tears and looked around for that _because_ he could not say out loud.

His broken blue eyes at last found her.

Padmé Naberrie Amidala, Widow of Palpatine, sat by a private corner, a crowd of handmaidens and family members circled around her.

Anakin couldn't bear to see her. She was fully clothed in black garments, though so tight her figure made Anakin angry. She wore a veil like in her wedding the day before, only that now it was intricate, embroidered black lace.

"You…" Anakin muttered, his mouth twitching in rage, walking swiftly to her, never hating her as much so much as in that moment. "You!" he screamed when he stood in front of her.

"Boy, I am very sorry for your loss," she begun to say in a soft voice but stopped when she looked up and noticed Anakin's evil look, his violent manner and aflame with hatred words.

"What did you do to my father?" he demanded. "How did you kill him?!"

"Pardon me?" the young widow shook her head.

"Don't fucking act so oblivious you treacherous bitch!" Anakin screamed, jumping on her, infuriated, without thinking, directing his big broad hands to her clothed neck.

Amidala screamed in shock and pain as Anakin shook her. Immediately, though, the handmaidens rose from their seats and pulled out their blasters, not caring who he was; Anakin becoming nothing more to them than their mistress's attacker.

Something very peculiar happened to the already strange and disturbing scene: the fire never reached Skywalker.

The crowd gasped and the world seemed to stand still.

It was not public knowledge that Anakin was a Force user…

He saw the shape of Amidala shake and that gave him disgusting satisfaction. He didn't care about the crowd, he needed to avenge his father!

But first, he needed the truth.

He walked to her again, but his victim's family stood like a shield before her.

"I need to talk to her," Anakin said, breathlessly.

"You will not, you savage!" one of the handmaidens said. "My lady, let us be gone- he is mad."

"If I were, I have enough reasons to be so," Anakin sighed. He regarded his hands for a few moments, those hands that had reached that female neck with the intention of destroying… and he could hardly believe, not only that he had done in but that he didn't regret it.

 _Am I really mad?_

A priest appeared, looking calm, and he directed the bizarre family away from the morbidly entertained crowd.

The Naberries, a few imperials, and the last Skywalker now alone, the truth could be discussed more openly.

"How did my father die?" Anakin asked, seated alone in a luxurious couch.

A moment of silence.

Governor Tarkin then said, "Old age, boy. Nothing to do with murder, I can promise you that."

"I don't believe it!" Anakin cried. "He was fine and healthy."

"Yet unprepared for another marriage at his age," Tarkin grinned.

"What?" Anakin shook his head, not understanding.

"Apparently, his wedding night with Princess Naberrie was too much for his body and heart—"

"Hey!" Padmé's father interrupted. "A little more respect and prudency please."

"So… what happened?" Anakin demanded.

"What we should've guessed just looking at this siren." Tarkin smiled disrespectfully, turning his eyes towards the widow. "She captured you father's heart, and never gave it back. He died of a heart attack. What a wonderful way to go."

"Imperial scum," a handmaiden muttered.

Anakin gave himself the time to think about what he learned.

 _So… in a way, she did kill him._ He turned also to look at her, wishing to see at least an ounce of her skin. Her gloved in black lace hands were on her throat, caressing where he had hurt her. Her covered head was bowed down. Anakin felt his hatred for her, but also, a lot of other things…

"Family and friends," the priest said, breaking the painful long silence. "It is time."

Skywalker walked the barely lit by the approaching sunset fields, dressed in his military uniform, a crowd of imperials marching behind him.

By another extreme, Amidala gracefully paced, her aristocrat family by her sides, her security team around. All dressed in elegant and rich gowns and suits, showing they were the Excellency of Naboo.

In the middle of the two crowds Palpatine's coffin was carried, covered in flowers and tears.

Behind all the great crowd of guests and spectators.

At last, farewell…

Anakin kneeled watching his father being put three meters underground. Dirt kept covering the coffin until it could not be seen.

Wiping away tears, holding back any more sobs, choking in his own sorrow, Anakin looked by the other extreme, also kneeling contemplating the disappearing dead man, Amidala, finally removing the veil from her face.

The face was too fucking perfect.

The eyes not puffy with tears or despair. The features not contorted by pain. She was as radiant as in her wedding. Was her sin that she was so beautiful? Well, it was a sin nonetheless, and like any other, it should be punished.

Anakin saw the dark eyes look from the coffin and to him. Defiance. Hatred. Resentment. He realized it immediately, all that Anakin felt for her, was corresponded.

Well, except for one feeling…

 _It is not desire._ Anakin repeatedly said in his head as he continued to imagine running to her, grabbing her with violence again, and ripping her apart! Rip her clothes, free her from all that black. Giving her his heart to do as she pleases, like his father did, and if breaking it or killing it was what she wanted, so fucking be it—

"Boy, let's go back to the Palace," he heard Tarkin said.

Amidala threw one more hateful glare at Anakin, and she again put on the veil.

She and her family also walked back to the palace.

* * *

The Naberries did nothing but prepare their suitcases and bags, get everything ready to leave Theed's Palace and return to their mansion in the countryside.

Nobody was more eager to go than the young widow.

"How much longer, Father? Oh my dear Sola please hurry your husband and your kids!"

"Easy, Padmé we are practically ready, we just have to say goodbye to the Skywalker boy. The shuttle is ready."

"Say goodbye to that savage? He should be lucky I didn't press charges for attacking me! Oh I swear I cannot wait to leave this place forever! And to think I was so close to spend my every day here… oh for all the Moons of Naboo, let's go!"

The Naberries walked to the hangar of Theed's Palace, their steps being so quick and sloppy, as if they feared a few seconds late could keep them from leaving forever.

"Naberrie Clan," Anakin stopped them just as they were almost free. "May you have a pleasant trip. I am sorry our union had to be cut short so swiftly. May you find resignation for your loss, as I will try, my dear mother," he said, looking at Padmé.

She contained herself with difficulty, and only nodded along. "Goodbye, see you never," she said, but then with a smile, barely visible behind her mourning veil, "Well, aside from the reading of my late husband's will."

She expected the boy with the savage nature to attack her for the provocation, but cool calm and collected, he commented, "Of course, see you then, Naberrie Clan," he didn't look at Padmé as he spoke.

 _What is he planning?_ Padmé wondered. But not being curious enough to risk another moment in his company, she urged her family, again, to escape.

Skywalker surprised her once more, as he offered to help everyone into the shuttle.

 _Fool,_ Padmé thought to herself as she watched him prepare everything, _he doesn't know we are actually leaving Naboo to go hide in another planet._ She saw him smile suddenly just as she thought the insult.

When everyone but Padmé had boarded, she watched him offer her his arm.

"I can enter just fine without your help boy," she carelessly said.

"And who says you are accompanying them?" he said just as carelessly, though his eyes didn't hide their intensity.

"What—" the arm she had rejected suddenly scooped her in a suffocating embrace. "No! no!" Padmé screamed. "Father! Help!"

"You wanted my Father's fortune?" she heard the words at her ear, feeling that she was moving fast, although she was shaking so much she was sure she'd be unable of give a single step. "You wanted to be the Lady of this Castle? Well, congratulations because you got what you wanted! You are the Mistress of my home. You cannot ever go. You are doomed to pay for the life you took, my father's life, with your own!"

"Boy, you are insane. Let me go!" she screamed, fighting the tears of terror that threatened to flood her face.

He paid no attention to her screams, to her now humbled begs and pleads.

Then, they came to a stop, and she recognized, with fear and disgust, the room in the west wing which she had shared with her late husband. Anakin threw her, practically smacked her on the bed.

"This is your place." Anakin said. "Don't worry about your luggage I already took care of keeping it here. If you need anything you can call any servant, after all, you are the Mistress of Theed's Palace."

"Why are you doing this?" Padmé said amidst sobs.

"You forgot every privilege comes with a price, I am only reminding you that. Have a good night, if you can sleep through the guilt of killing a man!"

"I didn't kill him!" she screamed. "I wish I did!" she said without thinking, only to instantly regret it.

"Yes…" Anakin nodded, his gaze aflame, Padmé could swear she could see splashes of yellow amidst the blue. "You and your family were so triumphant, so pleased. What'd you think, you could raze this home, to take the richest and leave it in ruins, only to go out victorious and unharmed? No, not if I can help it!"

"Get away from me!" she screamed as he approached.

"Why do you always cover your face? What are you trying to hide if not your evil intentions?" he said and snatched the veil from her face with one swift movement.

Damn.

Damn her beauty which was like a shield, like an antidote to his hatred.

Her starry eyes stared into his soul, and though he had gone with evil intentions of vengeance to her, all that was erased, or at least, appeased.

She couldn't believe it when he rose from the bed and practically ran from the bedchamber.

Shaken and frightened to her very core, Padmé muttered to herself, "Goodness me! He's mad…. He's absolutely crazy! Oh for all the stars in the galaxy, what am I going to do? What will become of me! I have to escape!"

But little did she know, this nightmare was only about to begin.

* * *

 _ **AN:**_ Thanks for the reviews, favs and follows! What did you think of the new chapter? Please review and let me know!


	3. Chapter 3: The Legend Of Her Spell

Chapter 3: The Legend Of Her Spell

"I will not be made a victim."

That's the first thing that goes through her mind when she wakes up.

"I can't. I have no reason to be so."

Really… she needed to remind herself who she was.

The last few days she had been weak, the circumstances being such to make her mind a mess. But now that she had had a night alone, alone with her thoughts and conscience she could put everything in order, everything together.

 _I am Padmé Amidala._

She should not be afraid of her surroundings.

 _I am the lady of this Palace. The richest woman in Naboo. I am also free from marriage after enduring it for only a few hours!_

Skywalker had scared her with his violence, she couldn't deny it. But the stupid boy would not get the best of her!

 _Remember you saw him use the Force…_

Ugh! Such bad luck!

 _But remember also, his lust-filled eyes…_

For Force's sake, she had seen that look in a million men and women before, she couldn't call it anything else. For all the contempt he claimed to feel for her, Padmé was sure he desired her, the scoundrel.

 _That will be my biggest weapon against him._

And so she wouldn't cover her face anymore. No, probably never again.

" _Why do you always cover your face?"_ Skywalker had asked her.

The blasted brat had suggested it was for her own malice! When it had been the exact opposite case. She covered herself to protect herself from the evil world.

Since she could remember, men could never control themselves against her beauty, as if someone had put an evil Sith spell on her. As if the Force and fate became nothing when against the feelings she caused to bloom in the opposite sex.

What terrible mayhem she provoked the first time she showed herself in Theed at fifteen years old! Just remembering the occasion she feels the desperate need to put on the veil again… but now, her beauty and charms are her only shield against the mad Skywalker boy.

Her shoulders and low cut cleavage being bared, her legs visible from the knees down; all clad in black, the mourning dress clinging to her body like no man every did… She never wears make up, but she feels such hatred towards Skywalker she wants to drive him as mad as possible.

She doesn't smile as she leaves her bedchamber but she doesn't tremble either.

No Queen ever held as much poise as Amidala while she strutted the Palace.

"Get my breakfast ready," she said severely without looking at the servant she passed by in the hallway, "I want to have it in the garden."

"Yes, My Lady!"

What a grand Palace this was!

Oh she was used to greatness, to wealth and luxury, but really nothing compared to Theed's Palace. The gothic towers of ancient architecture and timeless beauty; the carpeted floors and endless, spiral stairways… Shining chandeliers. Images of past rulers. Guards at every corner. She was getting intoxicated from her own powers, just thinking… _This is all mine_.

Reaching the garden she breathed in all the sweet scents of Naboo's well-cared nature. Blossoming flowers. Oh a Naboo rose flew across the air and it landed on her precious head, the fragrance falling over her head.

"Recollect as many Naboo roses as you can," she commanded to the wind, knowing a servant had to hear her order.

"What for, My Lady?"

"I have a use for them."

She sat on a crystalline table, relaxed in all her grandeur and loneliness. Delicious pastries were taken to her so delicious red mouth, exuberant fruits and spices.

* * *

"Why is my breakfast late?" Anakin asked, more surprised than bothered.

"Pardon me, boy, but Lady Amidala of Palpatine has all the cooks occupied."

Anakin paused for a moment upon that information. "Does she?" he said, though the servant knew this was not a question he needed answered. "Where is she?" now this one seemed important.

"Breakfasting in the garden, boy."

Oh the rage awakened in him! He found her as he had not expected. She was not frightened. Not terrified for her life. But very comfortable in her way.

He had made her feel like a prisoner the night prior and now she seemed like the most frivolous woman in Theed. She was lying on a large cushioned chair, servants covering her, feeding her and fanning her. The nerve of this bitch.

"Amidala!" Anakin cried.

He was ignored.

"Amidala!" he repeated. "Amidala I am talking to you—!"

"I can hear you just fine, boy," she said, and though he couldn't see her Anakin guessed her to be smiling. "You don't need to scream."

He was set even more aflame in his rage. "Will you stop calling me boy?! I am sure I am your senior for at least a decade—"

"Who're you kidding boy?" she interrupted his rant, nonchalantly. "I am past eighteen and though your age is also a mystery, despite your height and well-built self I am sure you can't possibly be more than twenty. Besides, everyone here, the servants most of all, refer to you as the Skywalker boy," he heard her giggle ever so slightly. "I'll admit I am curious—why are you not named like your Father? Is it true what a lot of gossipy aristocrats whisper—were you adopted by my late Palpatine?"

"Clear the way!" Anakin whispered and the servants scattered like insects, fleeing his rage- "How dare you—you!"

"What?!" she challenged, now face to face.

Oh not again… Anakin was struck. He felt all sort of funny things within his belly, a lump in his throat. A race in his beating heart.

"You were saying Skywalker boy?" she softly asked, batting her eyelashes.

"I… I mean, I just—"

She laughed.

"Boy leave me alone, I am busy now." She said now unamused and truly bothered.

He shook her head, fighting every instinct. "I am the heir of this house and I will not be treated as you plan," he said with difficulty.

He saw the surprise in her face and was pleased with himself.

She raised a questionable eyebrow, and commented, "I am Palpatine's heir, you know. I am sure he left me everything he had."

"What makes you think he would forsake his own son?"

She looked away for a moment, "I know what I provoked in him," she said, as if ashamed.

Anakin felt a pang in his chest. "I beg you don't speak of him."

"I will not have mercy on someone who never shows it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She was quiet for a moment.

"Enjoy your last days in the Palace Skywalker boy," she said with scorn, "When they read His Last Will, I will kick you and every imperial from this my domains!"

"You ambitious tramp!" Anakin cried, he raised his hand and Amidala opened her mouth wide in shock, already expecting his fist on her face but he did not intent to touch her. Not physically.

She felt as her throat closed, all beautiful scents evaporated, she could not take any breath, she gasped and gasped; her beautiful face colored purple and then… Anakin lowered his hand, and she fell to the ground.

She almost choked again feeling the sudden wave of air hit her lungs, taking her hands to her naked throat, she shed a few reluctant tears.

From the blue-green grass on which she laid, she saw his feet, and looking up, saw his face with an unreadable look she for a moment thought could be regret… and like the night before, he disappeared, running from the scene.

"He's not like everyone else," she realized with horror. "I cannot affect him like other men! Oh I have to do something quickly if I want to make it out alive!"

* * *

What the actual _fuck_.

What power did she have, Amidala.

Anakin had never faltered using his power. Why did he feel he hurt himself more than her as he attacked her?

Oh he still felt the fury, the uncontrollable, immeasurable insanity he experienced watching her face, the most beautiful face in the world distorted by the pain he inflicted. He wished he could go back in time and not do it. Never would he forgive himself for such mistake.

"Oh will she be all right? Did I cause permanent damage?" he wondered out loud in his father's old office, pacing like a mad man. "Why, why, why did I do it? I have to go back—Amidala—!"

"But boy," he heard a sudden boy from behind the large chair, "what in Sith's hell are you on about?"

"Mr. Tarkin!" Anakin cried, startled. "What are you doing here? I didn't see you when I came in!"

"No, because you came running crazy. I was only checking a few documents. But tell me, what happened to you?"

"Her! Her!"

"Amidala? Has she captured you too?"

"Never! I'll never let that happen!"

"But if it's true… I am afraid you have no choice."

"How do you mean?"

"I have heard of the legend… I didn't want to believe it."

"Will you speak plainly? I do not understand you!"

"Alas, boy! There is a rumor circulating a young Nabooian. A girl who's part angel. She's rumored to be so beautiful she enchants men until she drives them to insanity. Apparently, there was an accident in which she was involved, resulting in a massacre…"

"That is only a legend, sir. What does that have to do with my stepmother?"

"Think, Anakin! Think! Why do you think she always covers her face? She could sent the world to Sith's Hell if she doesn't-"

"No, I don't believe it. I just saw her face… and yes, she had some sort of charm over me. But not beyond that of a beautiful woman."

"Are you sure of that?" Tarkin grinned. "You are used to beautiful women Anakin. Since you were fourteen you had the biggest beauties of the galaxy at your disposal."

"Never one that compared to her, though."

"Accept the truth, boy. There is so much evil in the world, and that you know."

Anakin turned his back on him. "I will not fall prey to her like my father did. I promise you that!"

"I can't say I wish the same for myself. Is she really unveiled? Where exactly? I want to see her?"

"Mr. Tarkin!"

"I'm kidding, boy, of course!" Tarkin laughed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work behind me." He dismissed him.

Anakin walked to the door, and just as he reached it, said, "By the way," his fiery eyes met those grey ones of Tarkin, "Don't call me boy ever again."

He dangerously gave that order also to every servant.

* * *

"I will not fall prey to him!" Amidala promised herself. "I will make him fall in love with me!"


	4. Chapter 4: Tug Of War

Chapter 4: Tug Of War

 _Ridiculous_ , no other word could Anakin use to describe the legend Tarkin had told him about the young widow. No, it is just not possible. True, there might be something mythical, addictive and odd regarding Amidala's beauty… but it didn't fall on the supernatural, of course.

That men could kill for her? It seemed likely. After all, brutes murdering in the name of romantic obsessions wasn't unheard of. But to think a curse or magic prompted that?

Anakin shook his head, hating the fact that the woman he so despised had occupied his thoughts for so long. He desperately tried to think of other things, of whatever, yet it didn't help. She completely dominated his mind.

 _You need to get out of the Palace_ , he heard his own advice within his troubled head. _Leave Theed for at least a few hours._

He took a long shower, feeling fresh and rejuvenated afterwards. He dressed in his best robes, and with a trying attitude, left his bedchamber.

Nothing could go wrong; he had a plan that was sure to make him forget.

But fate had other things in mind.

On the way to the hangar, he ran into her.

Damn her!

She was so perfect. Her dark auburn hair ran loose, giving her a youthful look, sweet and enticing. Her clothes weren't particularly fancy—they were almost simple, which took nothing from her appeal, if anything, it made her easier to appreciate.

"Are you going out, Skywalker boy?" she asked in a soft, melodic voice.

"None of your business," Anakin grumbled. "And I told you not to call me boy." His heart was beginning to race, the proximity affecting him immensely.

She laughed, softly. "Oh, well all right. May I call you Anakin then? And you can call me Padmé; that is my maiden name."

"We don't have to call each other anyway," Anakin frowned and looked down. Another second looking at her and he might break down. "Go back to enjoy the richest and power you found in my home—and do make the best of it since you are soon to leave them forever," Anakin smiled wickedly.

She was unperturbed. "Oh keep holding on to that dream. It will be so awkward, though, when it happens the other way around."

"Amidala, you could never remove me from my Palace."

"You wanna bet, Anakin?"

Anakin stared at the floor, knowing that facing her would be his doom.

"Whatever." He turned around and left her. Very nervously, he realized she was following after him. He chose to ignore it.

"May I accompany you?" Amidala asked Anakin as he was boarding his speeder.

"You may not," he shook his head, still avoiding looking at her at all costs.

"Hmm," Padmé grinned when he had gone. "He is one tough cookie. But no matter. I will get him."

There had never been a man she couldn't have—though she had chosen to never take any— save for that one very necessary case. He would fall in time. _They always do._ And when he does… Skywalker would be destroyed.

* * *

"What is she up to?" Anakin wondered like a madman within his troubled head.

What could she mean by this change in attitude?

How could she gone from that shy, mute, shadow-like bride and widow to this femme forte? She used to hide her face from his prying eyes, now she displayed it for his pleasure. For his obsession to bloom.

 _She's out to get me_ , he thought, paranoically, though not entirely wrong.

He was determinate to made her a victim, and not the other way around. He might have been too obvious in is physical attraction, but he could fix that. He could show her he had no feelings for her. It would not be hard.

He growled, angry and annoyed. Again he had dedicated her too much space in his mind. He looked around, at the large crystal clear pool in front of him. At the scarcely-dressed bodies that surrounded him, and decided to order another drink and enjoy himself in Moenia's beach club. Moenia was Anakin's second favorite city in Naboo, after Theed. And the beach club had been a place he frequented since he was a young boy.

He searched around for some company, anyone that could drive his stepmother from his mind and soul—yet they all paled in comparison. Despite the fact the place was rattling with models, film stars and beauty queens, he could not find one that awakened in him the raging storm she could create with one simple glare.

* * *

Padmé enjoyed the tranquility breathed in the Palace while Anakin Skywalker wasn't there. She heard from the servants the boy had gone to the club in Moenia City, and that when he went there, he usually stayed for days, sometimes weeks away. She prayed that would be the case. Her at the moment twisted mind even entertained the idea that he could have a sort of accident while in his resort and die; saving her the trouble of avenging herself.

When night came she retreated to her bedchamber in the most relaxing state she had known in weeks, but she had barely welcomed the sweet freedom of sleep when loud noises made her jump and rise from bed.

She immediately went out to inspect, and wondered why no servants did the same; till she found the cause of disturbance.

The Skywalker Boy had returned, and he was not, by any accounts, alone. A blonde beauty hanged by his left, a pink sequenced dress on its way of falling. A stunning redhair was being dragged by his right, naked from the waist up; she was sucking at his right ear and his neck. Padmé could almost had missed her but upon observation noticed there was also a black skinned young girl, clad in white underwear only, walking behind them.

Anakin had the three beauties in a strange embrace; he had an _evil_ face of pleasure and dominant power which unable Padmé from looking away from the scene.

Her eyes had never seen such a spectacle, and she didn't know what power came over her as she followed them, entering Anakin's private chamber. The door closed behind them by itself. Padmé stood by a corner and watched…

The three girls threw Anakin to his wide bed. They each climbed and kissed him in different places while also undressing him. He meanwhile moaned out loud, and worked to get the girls naked. The four begun mingling and rubbing against each other. Anakin caressed the body of every single girl, capturing at all times different breasts, which he squeezed without an ounce of delicacy. He bit at the thighs of the blonde; his lips licked at her insides and made her scream as if someone was slashing a knife through her skin. The other two were also moaning and screaming, making noises which filled Padmé's mind, the whole thing giving her an inexplicable desire to also scream like that.

Anakin next took each of the girls. Padmé saw, amazed, as he grabbed them with ease, one by one in different ways…

She realized she was breathless, she was sweating as if she had run Theed's plaza in its entirety.

She didn't know what to think—a sort of clarity came over her when Anakin glanced from his place in the bed, and to her with a triumphant smile.

She wanted to die, but simply found she still had feet and could run.

She fled from his bedchamber, feeling like she would never be able to get him, after all.


End file.
